


Green Light, Go

by WarriorBeeoftheSea



Series: Love Game [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Carry On Countdown, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown 2019, Light Bondage, M/M, Nov 26 - Role Swap, Oral Sex, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21549979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarriorBeeoftheSea/pseuds/WarriorBeeoftheSea
Summary: "Can we…" He scrunches his face, then opens his eyes. "Can we, um." He's not looking at me, and I'm not breathing. "Can we play another game together?"I still can't breathe, and I'm not saying anything, so he goes on."Like we did-- you know. With the stopwatch." He blushes fiercely and I almost laugh at him. It's enough to remind me to draw in a breath.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Love Game [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552981
Comments: 15
Kudos: 271
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	Green Light, Go

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: there is some light mention of non-con role play here, but consent is very enthusiastically and unambiguously stated. Like, I think the consent couldn't be clearer unless they drew up a contract.
> 
> I think it's mild, but please be kind to yourselves. 
> 
> (Happy to give specifics privately if it helps you read it.)

**Baz**

I know something is up as soon as Simon steps into our room. I turn the page of my book and try to look bored, even as my heart speeds up.

He closes the door and leans heavily against it. He watches me read ( _pretend_ to read) on my bed, my legs stretched out in front of me. I swallow thickly, and avoid the nagging pull to look at him. To get up and go to him at the door. To lick his stupid, long, beautiful neck.

It's been three whole days. We still haven't talked about it.

We haven't talked about much of anything.

He's still staring at me, and his throat bobs with a long, slow swallow, and _for fuck's sake_ I had _sex_ with this boy on the floor of our room three days ago.

He turns the lock.

**Simon**

I'm trying to seem casual, but I feel a little like I'm going to be sick. Or like I'm going to trip over my feet and look like a moron.

I've never cared quite like this about making a fool of myself in front of Baz.

Well, that's definitely not true.

It's been three days. And I want him to want me.

So of course I trip when I start striding over to his bed.

_Of course._

**Baz**

I'm on my feet before Simon hits the floor. I can't help it. I'm caught for a moment between calling him a bloody moron, and asking if he's OK.

"Snow, what the bloody hell? Are you ok, you _imbecile_?"

Well. Treaded that line nicely, didn't I?

Simon rolls onto his arse and glares at me, rubbing the knee he fell on ( _hard_ , I note, and grimace).

I stride to him without thinking and sink down to the floor next to him.

My shoulder brushes his and then it's like my body remembers what we could be doing, what we could have been doing every day since Tuesday, what I've been messing up by being _me_ , the stubborn sod that I am.

I place a hand on his thigh. Just above his bashed knee.

**Simon**

Baz is touching me, and I think he's surprised himself as well as me, if the look on his face is anything to go on. He's staring at his hand, and I almost expect him to recoil in horror.

It's enough to make me want to call him a _twat_ and topple him to the floor.

Then I remember that that's more or less what I'd been hoping to do. And my face flushes hot.

_Christ._

Before he can pull away from me, I place my hand on top of Baz's. "I…"

I'm not sure what to say but I know I have to say something now. Before it's too late.

He beats me to it. "Can I cast a **get well soon**?" He's avoiding my eye, and whispering, and it makes me feel so _hot_.

 _Cast whatever you want on me,_ I want to say. _Do anything to me._ But I can't bloody well say something like that, can I?

Instead, I nod.

He casts quickly, and soon my knee is tingling and lightly throbbing with his magic. I close my eyes. It feels nice. If we're enemies, shouldn't his magic feel wrong to me? Sharp, or bitter, or something?

And then I remember rolling around on the floor with him three days ago. And I remember that we probably aren't enemies. Not really.

**Baz**

Simon's got his eyes closed, and my hand is still pressed to his thigh. I should pull back. I really should.

I slip my wand back into my sleeve. And then I really do mean to stop touching him. I do.

"Can we…" He scrunches his face, then opens his eyes. "Can we, um." He's not looking at me, and I'm not breathing. "Can we play another game together?"

I still can't breathe, and I'm not saying anything, so he goes on.

"Like we did-- you know. With the stopwatch." He blushes fiercely and I almost laugh at him. It's enough to remind me to draw in a breath.

**Simon**

"What kind of game?" It's a whisper, and if I didn't know better I'd think he's leaning closer. Inching into my space.

And suddenly I'd rather die than tell him what I've been daydreaming about since we--

But it feels like this is the only way to make it happen _again._

I want it to happen again. I think he might, too.

"Let's trade clothes and play at being one another."

Baz's eyes narrow. "In a… sex way?"

My face burns and I shrug.

"Like role-playing?"

I nod, and wish for the sweet relief of death.

"Alright." My eyes snap to his, and he smiles shakily.

We're actually doing this.

Baz climbs to his feet and steps towards his wardrobe. "This could be fun, Snow." He starts pulling out a uniform shirt. "I'd love the chance to show you how moronic you can be at times."

He's nervous, and trying to cover. I try not to take it personally. I want to reach out and smooth a hand across his back to comfort him. But I don't feel like I can do that. Not yet.

I rise from the floor. "Actually, Baz, I--"

He turns to me, a hanger in his hand. He looks afraid.

**Baz**

He's about to tell me he was kidding. And he might as well run me through with his sword. Maybe we should step into the hallway so the Anathema won't expel him for ending me.

"Baz, I…" He's looking just over my shoulder.

 _Look at me when you hurt me, you shit,_ I want to say.

"I want to wear the clothes you're wearing now." His eyes finally lock on mine.

I gape stupidly. "They're not clean. I've been wearing them all day."

"I know. I want that."

 _Great snakes._ I've lost the power of complex thought.

I begin unbuttoning my shirt.

**Simon**

I blush and turn my back to give him privacy to undress. And then I feel right stupid because I've seen him starkers before. More than _seen_ him.

I begin undressing, starting with my tie.

I'm just down to my pants when Baz tosses his trousers onto my bed. I can't help looking over my shoulder at him and watch the bare plane of his back. His shoulders.

I want him so badly.

I also want…

"Your pants, too."

He turns and catches me looking at him. "You want to wear my used pants?"

**Baz**

I try to act disgusted, I really do. Like the idea of wearing Simon's dirty underwear is absurd. And it is. It really is absurd.

But I can't help that I find the idea appealing enough to kneel at his feet and remove his pants with my teeth. (I don't do that. But I don't mind saying it's a close thing.)

I slip mine off my hips and step out of them. I'm painfully aware how naked I am, with Simon Snow an arm's length away.

I hand him my briefs, and he hands me his. _Crowley_ , Simon is naked. And he's about to put on my clothes.

It's all I can do not to press the pants to my face and huff in his smell. Instead I slip them on before my judgement can waver, and _oh fuck me,_ they're still warm from his body.

**Simon**

I'm still thin from the summer. I know because I can fit into Baz's trousers. If we do this again later in the year, after I've gotten my fill of roast beef dinners and buttered scones, I won't be able to button them.

If we do this again…

I shrug into his shirt, but find the shoulders too tight. I fasten some of the lower buttons, but leave the chest gaping open. It'll have to do.

I turn to grab Baz's tie from where he tossed it, and he's looking at me. Gaping at me, actually.

I pick up the tie and loop it under my collar ( _Baz's collar_ ). There's no hope of tying it properly.

Baz swallows thickly, and I watch the bob of his throat. He's wearing my trousers and shirt, and they hang off him, just a bit. He ties my tie messily around his neck, and I'm mesmerized.

He smirks. "This is what your tie looks like every day."

I raise both eyebrows at him. (I don't know how to do just one.)

**Baz**

Fuck. Fuck fuck _fuck_. This is making me hard. Wearing Simon's still warm clothes, his body heat seeping into my skin. Simon watching me, running his eyes over my body.

He looks like a moron with both his eyebrows up like that. Like a surprised dimwit. And it makes me want to straddle him.

"Well, Snow? What now?" I mean for it to sound menacing, but it comes out near breathless. Fuck me.

He steps closer. I try to breathe through my mouth to mock him ( _mouthbreather)_ but it feels wrong, and anyway, he's pressing his mouth to mine now.

**Simon**

I meant for this to be more of a game. But now all I can think to do is slip him the tongue. I'd be right disappointed with my seduction technique if it didn't seem to be working.

Baz is leaning into me, pressing his hips flush with mine, and I can tell _exactly_ how well it's working.

I wrap my arms around him and run my hands across his back.

 _Christ._ I don't know what to do. I thought that if we'd done this once, the second time must be easy. But it's not.

**Baz**

Simon is thinking hard again. I can tell because his mouth has slowed against mine. Like he can't sustain two thoughts at once.

I pull away from his weakening kiss. "Do you still want to do this?"

That startles him out of his thoughts and he nods.

"Shall I pretend to be you then?"

He flushes, and nods.

"Posh tosser," I spit at him, and he laughs. Good. I grab his collar ( _my collar_ ) in both hands and back him up against my bed.

"What are you doing, Snow?" He's raising both eyebrows again, and I can't help but snort.

"Basilton. I'm manhandling you." I push him down onto the bed, and push and prod him until he's lying with his head on my pillow.

He wrinkles his nose. "I never call you _Basilton_."

I press against him. "Do you really want to discuss that right _now_?"

His face flushes. "Sorry…" He smirks, and raises those damned eyebrows again like a nitwit. "Kiss me, you imbecile."

He doesn't have to tell me twice.

**Simon**

Baz is giving me everything. He’s on top of me, pressing me firmly into his bed, and he’s kissing me. Great snakes, this is what I’ve wanted to do these past three days. Well, that and…

And then he’s sliding his hand into the open collar of my shirt ( _his shirt_ ). Brushing the backs of his fingers against a nipple. I arch up into him and gasp against his mouth.

 _“Slag,”_ he murmurs, his eyes squeezed shut. “You’re a slag for me, Basil.”

An odd jolt buzzes through me. I don’t know if I like it or not. I tip my mouth away from his.

“Baz, I’ve never called you a _slag_.”

He pulls away from me, exasperated. “It’s part of the game, _Snow._ ” He spits out my name like it’s an insult. (I suppose in this context it might be.)

He leans in again and kisses my jaw.

I want to let it go. I really do. "Baz, wait."

_Why couldn't I let it go?_

He rolls off of me and sits up with his feet on the floor. His face is hard, and he's avoiding my eyes. I think he's about to get up.

**Baz**

I can't. I just can't _do this_. I can't play this game with him without giving away the whole thing.

He sits up and wraps an arm around my waist from behind. Nudges my shoulder with his cheek, and peppers the back of my neck with kisses as he rises to his knees.

"Baz." He leans over my shoulder and kisses my cheek. I mean to turn away.

Instead I lean in.

"I think your Simon impression could use some work." His voice tickles my ear, and it takes effort not to groan. "Although I expect I haven't said enough _good_ things to you."

I swallow. Try to gather myself. "That's certainly true. _You_ could use some work."

He chuckles and runs his hand lazily up and down my belly. "I suppose I could say some nice things for you to copy."

My eyes slip closed. "Could do." I lean my head back against his shoulder.

He presses his mouth against my ear and whispers, and I am done for. "I want you, Baz. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Crowley, Snow. You can't just say things like that." I lean back into him. "You're meant to be mean. It's less confusing that way."

He nips my ear and I nearly die. Then he whispers in a low voice, "But I want to confuse you, Baz."

**Simon**

I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing, but Baz is near purring in my arms, and I like it. And honestly, if anyone in this situation is confused, it's me. But whatever I'm doing seems to be working alright.

I brush my lips against his throat. "What kind of good things might Baz Pitch say to Simon Snow?" I feel the slow bob of his swallow against my mouth. "I need to know what to say to you."

"You can say anything to me."

I don't. Say anything, I mean. I just tip his face towards mine and kiss him.

**Baz**

Simon is rattling my brain with his kisses, destroying any thought in my head. Is this what it's like to be Simon Snow? Just doing, instead of overthinking?

I can't let him know what I'd really like to say to him. _Simon, I'm in love with you._ It would end the game before it's even started.

 _I want to sleep in your arms._ (I did. Last time we did this. We fell asleep together. But that doesn't mean I can _tell_ him I want that. Or that I'll get to do it again.)

He's undoing my tie ( _his tie_ ). He's clumsy; his fingers keep slipping past the knot. Or maybe I'm just twisting too much in his arms. We're face to face now, and my fingers are on his jaw, and he's still struggling with my shoddy knot.

I don't know if I'm still pretending to be him, or if I'm pretending to be a version of myself who isn't in love with him. I gasp against his mouth, "Snow."

He pulls back and looks at me. "Are we not playing anymore? Call me Baz."

Then he's kissing me hard and pulling the tie from my collar ( _his collar_ ).

I don't know who I'm supposed to be right now.

**Simon**

Baz isn't talking much, and I don't know well enough whether that's odd for him. We've only done this once before.

He is kissing me, though, and leaning into me. Pressing his hands inside the open collar of my shirt ( _his shirt_ ) to run his fingers over my skin. I start undoing the buttons, and our knuckles brush together. Maybe this would have been easier if we'd gotten started in just our pants.

As soon as I finish with the buttons, he's pushing the shirt off of my shoulders. And then he's pushing me down against the bed, my arms still caught in the sleeves. He trails open mouthed kisses down my neck and across my chest, whispering "I want you" against my skin. I don't know if he's still pretending to be me.

" _Baz._ " I need to say his name.

He looks up at me. "Call me Simon." And then he dips his head to suck my nipple into his mouth. _Christ._

My voice is shaky when I whimper "Simon," but I want to encourage him.

**Baz**

I can taste Simon's skin. And I never want to stop. He's writhing under my mouth, and I'm teasing him with my tongue. He moans out his own name, and a perverse pleasure oozes through me. I grin against his skin, and kiss across his chest to flick my tongue across his other nipple. He tangles his fingers in my hair and groans wordlessly.

I stop moving, and draw back slightly. He whines and tries to pull me back to him.

"Say my name when you like what I'm doing." I blow a puff of air across his nipple, and he squirms.

 _"Baz,"_ he moans.

I snake a hand up and pinch his other nipple, hard. He cries out, startled, but it dissipates into another moan. "That's not my name." I pinch harder, and his mouth drops open. In pain, or pleasure, or maybe both.

" _Simon!_ Simon Simon Simon." He's babbling his own name, and I reward him with a rough lick to his nipple. I'm still pinching the other one. I release it, and watch his face as sensation returns and he shudders with pleasure.

"Is that… is that what you want me to do to you?" His breath is coming in short gasps, his chest rising and falling under my hands, under my mouth.

I just smirk at him. I'm terrified of giving too much away.

**Simon**

Well this is turning out right kinky, and I'm not sure if I'm surprised. I can't help the laugh bubbling up from my gut.

Baz pulls away and glares. "Why are you laughing?" He sits up, and it looks like he might try to storm off again.

I grab his wrist. "No! Baz, no. I'm just. I'm enjoying myself." He looks at me blankly. "Really. You're making me feel good, and I want to make _you_ feel good." I trace my knuckles lightly up the inside of his arm. "You want me to do that to you, _Simon_?"

His breath is coming out unsteadily, but he's trying to hide it. I want him so badly, and I want to see how much he wants me. I know he does. I pull him back to lie next to me, and he does.

"Can I make you feel good?" My hands hover over the placket of his shirt ( _my shirt_ ), and I wait for his permission. He nods, and I start working at the buttons.

He squeezes his eyes shut and presses the heel of his hand to his mouth. I don't stop when I get to his trousers ( _my trousers_ ), but undo the button and the zip.

I raise myself to hover over him on hands and knees, and just look at him a moment. His breath is shallow, and he shivers as I raise a hand to spread the shirt open, exposing his chest. There's a trail of dark hair low on his belly, disappearing into his pants ( _my pants_ ), and I trace my fingers down. I want to put my mouth on him, but I'm not sure where to start.

**Baz**

I wait anxiously for Simon to decide what he's going to do to me. But then I get impatient and open my eyes to look at him. He moves up my body and he's holding himself over me on hands and knees. His face is over mine, and he's smirking at me. "Kiss me," he whispers, and I tip my chin up towards him and let my eyes flutter closed. He doesn't lean down, though, and I whine and open my eyes. "Kiss me," he says again, and pulls further away from me.

 _For fuck's sake_.

I reach up and curl my fingers around the back of his neck, but he is unyielding, the stubborn oaf. I roll my eyes and prop myself up on an elbow to reach him, and then we're kissing. He sighs into my mouth, and then follows me down to the bed when I collapse against it again.

He kisses me slowly, thoroughly, his tongue delving into my mouth. As if we have all the time in the world. _We haven't got all the time in the world, Snow_.

So I'm surprised when he slides a hand down and inside my pants ( _his pants_ ).

"Is this ok," he asks, as if it could possibly _not be OK._ He grips my cock and gives it a slow pump while he waits for me to answer. His tongue is back in my mouth before I can say anything, so I just nod as much as I can. I think he understands.

**Simon**

I want to kiss Baz while I bring him off. I want my tongue in his mouth when he comes.

But I also want to talk dirty to him. I wish I could do both. Reluctantly, I pull away, and he groans. I give him another slow stroke, and he whines. "You want me to make you come like this?" He nods, and I stroke him again, faster. "Use your words."

His eyes shoot open in surprise. I pull my hand away and rest it low on his belly.

He sighs in exasperation. "I want you to get me off with your hand."

I don't move, just raise my eyebrows at him. (I _have_ to learn how to do just the one.)

"Simon, _please._ "

I grin, and lean down to brush my lips behind his ear. "Don't forget the game, _Snow_."

He growls and grabs my face in both hands. "Fuck. _Baz_. Just fucking touch me." And he pulls me into a rough kiss. I reward him by slipping my hand back into his pants ( _my pants_ ).

**Baz**

Simon's hand is clumsy on me, but that doesn't stop the pleasure from building in my gut. I whine against his mouth, and he hums back, overly pleased. Barmy git.

I wind my arms tighter around him as the pleasure coils and my bollocks tighten and I tug hard at his curls and my hips surge up from the bed and I'm about to come, oh god, I'm about to come and--

The bloody tosser _stops_ and pulls his hand away. I gasp into his mouth, and my heart thumps, and I want to _kill him_.

**Simon**

I'm well chuffed as Baz's body tenses around me. I give him a slow kiss with lots of tongue and will him to relax into me. He resists, pulling me hard against him, trying to turn the kiss frenzied. I don't let him.

Finally he sags against the bed. He tips his mouth away from mine and gasps. "Oh my god, I hate you."

I smirk at him. Raise my eyebrows again. "It'll feel good later, remember?"

"Fuck you." It lacks venom.

I kiss him and slide my hand back to his cock. "Ready for more?"

He scowls at me, then surges up to capture my mouth with his. I take that as a yes.

**Baz**

Perhaps it was a mistake teaching Simon about the joys of _delayed gratification_. How many times will he bring me to the edge but not let me tumble over it?

I try to remember how many times I did it to him, and the thought tips my pleasure into overdrive. He's working his hand against me again, and the surge of pleasure makes me clamp my hand over his and whimper " _stop_ " against his mouth.

I squeeze my eyes shut and thrust up against his hand, clutched in my vice-like grip.

**Simon**

Baz is tensing underneath me, and it takes me a moment to realize he's pulling himself back from the edge. _Oh_. I didn't realize he was that close again already.

I pull back and smirk at him, and wait for his breathing to even out. "That one nearly snuck up on us."

"It did sneak up on _you_. Do I have to do everything myself?" (He's a right stroppy mess when he's sexually frustrated.)

I wrench my hand from his grip and run my knuckles across the hair on his belly. "I thought I'd be able to tell. I was able to tell before."

He goes near boneless against the bed and rolls his head to look at me. "Yeah, well. I may have gotten caught up in a thought."

I grin at him. "Baz Pitch, were you nearly waylaid by a _dirty thought_?" He rolls his eyes, and I lean in to nuzzle my nose against his cheek. "I would have thought that would be beneath you."

He growls and rolls on top of me, pinning my wrists. "It's not beneath me if I'm pretending to be you," he sneers.

 _Fuck,_ this is hot.

**Baz**

He's looking up at me with lidded eyes, his mouth tipped open.

"Show me what you want me to do to you, Baz." He squirms underneath me, trying half-heartedly to twist his wrists from my grasp. "What does Baz Pitch _deserve_? Show me."

My breath catches in my throat, and I want to lean down and bite him. (I won't. I wouldn't. _Never._ )

Instead, I release one of his wrists and pull at the loose tie draped around his collar ( _my collar_ ). I settle back onto my knees, straddling his hips, and I use the tie to fasten his wrists together. He's looking up at me darkly, a smirk teasing his lips, and it's almost too much for me. I have to look away from his face to keep myself from rolling my hips and just rutting against him until I come too soon.

I'm not sure what to do with his tied hands now that I'm done. This doesn't _really_ stop him from pushing me off him and striding out the door, but... _Crowley_. The idea of him bound and helpless underneath me... Of me bound and helpless underneath him...

**Simon**

I think Baz has blown a fuse. "Alright Baz?" I shift my hips underneath him to bring him back to me. (I would have used my hands, but, _well._ )

He looks at my face, and I think for a moment that he looks lost. Like he's not sure what to do now.

I think I know how to goad him on. "C'mon, _Snow._ Do your worst."

His eyes trail down my chest, over my hands, still bound between us, and then flick back to mine.

And then he pushes my wrists over my head and loops the long end of the tie around a knob on his headboard. He ties it tight while giving me a dark look. He tugs gently on the knot, testing its limits. (We both know this won't _really_ hold me, but he seems satisfied.)

And then he's pressed chest to chest against me, biting my bottom lip.

**Baz**

I run my hand down from Simon's shoulder to his hip, tracing my fingers across his skin on the way. He shivers against me and I tease at his lip with my tongue.

"Christ _,_ _Ba-az_." His voice hitches in the middle of my name, and the whole thing is muffled against my mouth.

I pull back and brace myself with my hands pressing hard into his chest. "Wrong name. Try again." I sit up and twist my hips over his, trying to encourage sounds out of him.

He gasps and bucks up into me. I squeeze my thighs around his hips and give him a disapproving look. "Try _again,_ Baz."

Simon's eyes flutter closed and he grins as he tips his head back. He pulls gently at the tie around his wrists, and the muscles in his arms flex. His grin grows, and my breath catches. His eyes open lazily, and he smirks at me. "Make me."

_Fuck me._

I stare at him a moment. He's the one tied up, but right now I feel out of balance.

**Simon**

I think for once I've gotten the upper hand with Baz, but before I can gloat, his hands are on the button of my trousers ( _his trousers_ ) and he's undoing them in a frenzy. He shifts down my body, and presses messy kisses to my chest, my belly, _low_ on my belly before he roughly palms my arse with both hands and yanks the trousers and pants down in one quick movement.

To say I'm surprised is an understatement.

**Baz**

Simon's cock springs free from his pants and I grasp it roughly in my hand. (My other hand is still on his bare arse.) I look at him darkly, sternly, and tell him, "Try again, _Baz._ " Then before he can say anything, I dip my head and lick firmly at the head of his cock, smearing a bead of precome.

He gasps, and then lets out a really obscene moan. But he's still not _behaving._

"Say my name." I nip at his inner thigh while I rub my thumb over his frenulum.

"Nuh uh." He laughs and shakes his head side to side, his curls bouncing.

"Do it _now_ or I'll feed you to the merwolves." I don't expect that threat to work, so I couple it with wrapping my lips firmly around his crown and running my tongue over his head.

I think I've caught him off guard.

"Oh, _fuck,_ Simon." He bucks up into me, and whimpers.

And then he starts babbling.

**Simon**

I don't know what I'm saying but the words slip out of me.

"Oh fuck, yes, fuck, _Simon_."

Baz smirks at me (as much as he can with a mouthful of _cock_.)

"Oh my god, you could do whatever you want to me. I couldn't stop you."

He hums approvingly and slides down, taking more into his mouth.

" _Fuck me._ You could do anything, even if I didn't want you to."

Baz freezes. Releases me with a sloppy pop. And just looks at me in shock.

_Shit._

"No no no, Baz! That's not what I meant. It's pretend, yeah?"

Baz visibly relaxes. "For fuck's sake, Snow, warn a bloke before you say something like that. I didn't sign up for non-consensual role play."

"Sorry!" I look at him sheepishly. "But if we're on the topic..."

Baz narrows his eyes at me. "Are you asking me to suck you off while we both pretend you're me, and that you _don't_ want to be sucked off, except you really do?"

I shrug. "The idea of cracking the dignified Baz Pitch kind of gets me going."

Baz looks at me inscrutably. "We'll need a safe word."

"Do we _really?_ C'mon, _Simon._ "

Baz squeezes the base of my cock just enough to make me squirm. "I could just leave you like this. You'd have to wait for Bunce to come find you. Hard, and humiliated, and desperate."

" _Yes,_ " I sigh, and thrust up into his hand.

He scoffs. Sighs in exasperation. "Simon." He pulls his hands from me and rubs his brow like I'm giving him a headache. "You know traffic lights? Red, yellow, green?"

"Yeah..." This conversation has taken a decidedly unsexy turn.

"I ask you for a colour, or you just tell me when you need, and it means something. Like, red is stop, green is go. Understand?"

I roll my eyes. " _Green._ Now come suck me off, you fuck."

**Baz**

I’m sucking Simon Snow’s cock. Except he’s pretending to be me, _and_ he’s pretending he doesn’t want me to.

But he’s not really managing to pretend either of those things very well. Instead, he keeps moaning and writhing underneath me, and calling my name.

“ _Baz,_ ” he sighs. “Your mouth. Oh _fuck_.”

I pull away. “I thought _you_ were supposed to be Baz.”

I swallow him down again before he can say anything. He tangles a fist in my hair. I look at him, confused and pull back. “Weren’t your hands—”

He looks at me sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry. Your knot was actually kind of shit. It came undone and I’ve been pretending to be tied. I just forgot.”

His hands are still bound together, but he's no longer secured to the headboard.

I can work with this.

**Simon**

Baz is plotting, the evil git.

He rises onto hands and knees and leans towards my face, whispering conspiratorially, "Is it alright if I boss you around?"

I swallow, and feel his eyes on my throat. I nod.

He sits back on his heels. "Well then," he says louder, more confidently. "Baz Pitch, I'm still going to make you come, whether you like it or not." He gives me a dark look. "But I'm going to have to punish you for letting the knot come untied."

I'm torn between giggling and begging him for more, and I hesitate. His face falls, and he deflates, just a little. In a softer, less certain voice: "Can I have a colour?"

I grin. "Definitely still green." He lets out a breath.

I try to writhe seductively, but I'm not certain I don't look like a dying fish. Still, I lower my voice, hoping it sounds at least a little bit sexy. " _Crowley_ , Snow, what are you going to make me do?" I twist my hips and squirm, partly because I'm right wound up and partly to tease Baz. I know it's working when his gaze flicks to my cock and then away again.

**Baz**

I’ve lost some of the bravado of my threat. But I try not to let it show.

I run my hands up Simon’s sides, letting my thumbs graze over his nipples. He arches into my touch, and I decide to linger.

He giggles and moans and it’s a whole production. “But _Simon_ what are you trying to _do_ to me? If you touch me like that I might not be able to keep my wits about me.”

I flick over both nipples roughly with my thumbs again, and then circle them. “This must really be affecting you if it’s making you lose your cool composure, Baz.”

He closes his eyes, lets his head tip back, and moans, “Oh _Simon._ It really is. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” His hips roll, and he arches again, and I honestly don’t know how much of this is a show for my benefit.

I pull my hands away and he whines.

**Simon**

Baz runs his hands through his hair, and I know he’s nervous. I mean, more nervous than baseline _fooling around with my roommate for the second time_ nerves. He moves so that he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, facing me, his hips in line with my shoulders, and I almost ask what he’s doing.

Almost. Because his brow is furrowed and I think he’ll either run away or flog me if I startle him.

His trousers are hanging open, and he reaches into his pants to pull out his cock. He’s not looking at me.

He reaches for my bound hands, resting above my head, and his hand is shaking. _Oh._ I know what he wants.

It’s a little awkward with my hands still tied together, but he moves them so that my palms wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath and whispers, “Tell me a colour?”

His hand is resting loosely around my wrist, but I twist out of his grip and wrap the fingers of my right hand around him. “Green. Very very green.”

He leans back on his hands and lets his head roll on his shoulder. It’s so sexy I could die. I start stroking him (I know how to do that, even if my hands are tied), and he groans. “Baz, you’re so good at this,” he pants out. “I bet you touch yourself like this all the time, you _wanker_.”

I laugh. “Yes. I, Baz Pitch, am an expert wanker.”

He huffs out a laugh, but then his mouth tips open and he moans. He tries to bite it back by capturing his lower lip between his teeth.

“Simon,” I venture. “I sure wouldn’t want you to kiss me or anything.”

He grins. “Wouldn’t want to offend a Pitch.”

“You wouldn’t dare. Do you know who my father—” He cuts me off with a kiss. He’s leaning over me, and the angle presses my hands against his belly, stilling them. It’s an odd position, but it doesn’t stop me from opening my mouth to him. Doesn’t stop me from tipping my head and letting him slip his tongue into my mouth.

 _Merlin_ , I can taste myself on his tongue.

**Baz**

Simon surges up into me, deepening the kiss. He slides his tongue against mine over and over, and I'm near breathless.

I pull back after a long moment and rest my forehead against his. We're both breathing hard.

His hands are still trapped between us, and his fingers squirm against me.

"Snow," he says in his most imperious impression of me. "I bet you wouldn't even know _how_ to get me off. You can't possibly _force_ me to come, even if you try."

He must feel me tense over him. He whispers, "It's green, love. Still green." He tips his head to look at me. "How about you?"

My head is spinning from him calling me _love_ , and from the snogging, and the sex. But it's spinning in a good way. "Me too. Green."

Simon smirks at me, and I want to kiss that look off his face. "If that's settled," he grins. "Simon Snow, I _dare_ you to try to make me come."

Oh it is _on_.

**Simon**

Baz sits up suddenly and turns to press both hands against my hips. Pinning me in place.

_Fuck._

He licks his lips (honest to god, like in a porno or something) and then attacks. With his mouth. On my cock.

I try to buck up into him but his grip on my hips is too strong, so I can only whine as he swallows me down.

My hands are still wrapped around him, so I start pumping his cock again, trying to keep time with the bob of his head. It's an awkward angle, so it's a rough job even without his mouth distracting me.

Regardless, he moans around me.

" _Snow_ ," I groan. "Finally you've found a use for your mouth."

He groans, and I take that as encouragement.

"You never can manage to use your words. But your tongue is so good at this."

He hums approvingly, and swirls his tongue around my crown, and I can't help the sound I make. " _Fuck_ , Snow."

Baz tips his head to smirk at me, then gets back to it.

"I, for one," I pause, steadying my wavering voice, then begin again. "I, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm Pitch," (he gives me a rough lick on every syllable, and I see stars), "I came out of the womb casting perfect spells in _four_ languages."

He laughs around me, an undignified snort coming out of him. I give him a long, slow stroke, and he shivers.

"Obviously I have better things to do with my mouth, but you. You were born for this." I want to say the words, but I'm too shy. _Sucking cock._

Baz must sense that. He pulls off and huffs a breath against me. I shiver. "And what, exactly, is _this?_ " He ghosts his lips over my hipbone. "I won't keep doing it unless you say it."

I hesitate, and feel my face flush. I still my hand on him. I must be doing a shit job pretending to be Baz.

He traces a finger along my shaft and I squirm underneath him. "I thought Basilton Pitch was supposed to be eloquent."

I gather my courage and smirk at him. “Sometimes the hands on approach is best.”

**Baz**

I’m about to ask what he means, but then he’s twisting his body and bringing his face to where his hands are curled around my cock.

His lips have barely brushed against the head when I startle and my hips flinch away from him. _For fuck's sake, why does my body do this to me?_

And of course my hips are too close to the edge of the bed, and I roll off.

_Fuck._

**Simon**

It all happens so fast that for a moment I think Baz is running away from me. One moment I’m mouthing at his cock, and the next his feet are displacing the contents of his night stand and he’s thudding onto the floor.

I blink stupidly, and lean over the edge of the bed to look at him. “Are you alright?” He winces, and I know it’s a stupid question even as I’m asking it.

I offer him my bound hands. “Can I help you up?”

**Baz**

I don’t take Simon’s hand. (I’m afraid I’ll topple him out of the bed, too.) But I do sit up slowly and rub the spot on my arse that I know is going to bruise. _Christ_ , this is bloody well embarrassing. I tuck myself back into my trousers, and feel my face burn with shame. I avoid his eye as I lift myself to sit on the edge of the bed again.

“Baz.” He sits up awkwardly, engaging his abdominal muscles when he can’t press up on his tied hands. His trousers are still bunched below his hips, and I try not to stare. ( _Fuck me._ ) I turn and stare at the wall on his side of the room.

He tries again. Runs his knuckles down my back. I shiver and lean into his touch. “Baz, come back to me.” He leans in closer when I don’t move. Whispers hotly into my ear. “Can I try again?” He pauses and pulls back. “Or should I go get you some ice for your arse?”

**Simon**

Baz laughs, and I think it’s going to be ok. “No time for ice right now.” And then he’s turning and kissing me, holding my face in both hands. My hands are in fists pressed between us, and he pulls back and looks down at them. “Do you want me to untie you?”

I slip away from him and lie down again, stretching my hands above my head again. “You could always tie me to the headboard again.”

Baz’s eyes go wide. “You want to— with my— while you’re—” I’ve never seen him at a loss for words.

I laugh gently. “Yeah, I think so. Can we try that?”

He nods, but looks around the bed like he’s not sure where to start.

“How about you take off your trousers?” I suggest. “And maybe help with mine, too?” I wiggle my tied hands.

He nods again, and swallows hard.

**Baz**

I’m getting ready for Simon Snow to suck me off. _Aleister Crowley_. I stand up and slide my trousers ( _his trousers_ ) down and toss them onto his bed. I’m still wearing his pants, and his shirt is gaping open on me. I sit back down and turn to face him. Hands shaking, I slide his trousers ( _my trousers_ ) off. He lifts his hips to help, and I almost stop breathing.

Simon Snow is writhing on my bed, his cock out and dripping against his belly, wearing _my pants_ pushed low. My open shirt is rumpled underneath him, the sleeves caught on his bound hands. I can’t help but dip my head and lick the drip of precome from his belly. He moans and squirms under me, and I give the spot a wet, open mouthed kiss.

“ _Baz_ ,” he whines. “That’s not fair.”

I pull back and look at him, flushed and lovely on my bed. “Can I use my mouth on you while you— while you suck me off?”

He nods frantically and groans. “Yes, _please_. Do that.” He twists his hips for emphasis, and I’m not sure it’s intentional.

**Simon**

Baz puts his hand on my bare hip and encourages me to roll onto my side. Then he runs his hand from hip to ribcage, tracing it up up up my arm to press his weight against my hands. I jut my chin at him, challenging him. He leans down and kisses me sweetly before pulling my wrists up to the headboard and lashing them tight again. He sits back again, and looks me up and down.

“C’mere, love.” I tip my head and gesture him towards me. He swallows thickly, and maneuvers himself to lie on his side next to me, his knees crowded up by my hands. I brush my fingers lightly over his legs, where I can reach them.

His hips are just in line with my face, and I am really about to do this.

Or I will as soon as I can reach him. “You need to be closer. I can’t reach from here.” He huffs out a shaky breath and inches closer. “Closer, still, please.” If my hands were free I’d grab him by the hips and draw him to me. He inches forward, and I tip my head towards him, and finally I can mouth at his cock through his pants ( _my pants_ ).

**Baz**

Simon works his mouth over my cock, soaking the fabric with his saliva, and it is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t help rolling my hips against his mouth, and he holds firm against me, giving me the friction my body needs. “Oh _Merlin,”_ I moan, and he laughs.

“Baz, I’m barely even touching you yet!”

I groan and clutch at his thighs.

“Give me a hand and pull these down, will you?” He noses at my waistband. “I’d try undressing you with my teeth, but I don’t think I’m quite that talented.”

My hands shake as I push the pants down, and then his mouth is on me again, surrounding me in wet, slick heat. My breath is shaking in my throat, and it’s an effort not to thrust into Simon’s mouth. I try to let him take me in his own time, but my hips surge forward a little. He hums around me, and I don’t think he minds.

And then he starts moving and slicking his tongue over me, and I let out an embarrassing whine. “Oh _god.”_

**Simon**

I want to remind Baz that he offered to suck me off too, but the sounds he’s making are too good to interrupt. “Oh _fuck_. Simon, oh my god, you’re so— and your mouth is so—”

Instead I pivot my hips in front of his face and hope he gets the message.

He groans and clutches at me, and then he’s swallowing me down. I think he understands what I’m trying to tell him.

I moan back and rock into him.

**Baz**

I’ve definitely thought about this before, but purely in a fantasy context rather than practical. And yes, it’s incredibly sexy that Simon is tied up, but it does make this slightly more complicated.

My cock slips out of his mouth and he growls in frustration, then laughs. "Baz, I need a hand, please."

I grip his cock in my hand and pull off to give him an imperious look. "Whatever for?" But I can't keep up the act when I'm feeling this giddy, and I crack a smile.

I run my other hand up his side, and he squirms. I can't resist circling his nipple with my thumb again. This time I suck on the head of his cock at the same time, and his whole body shakes.

"Fuck, Baz," (I guess we're done with role playing), "Fuck, just hold your prick for me so I can suck you off."

I tease his nipple a moment longer, and he whines. But then I reach down and hold my cock in place, and point it at his face. (It feels so _dirty_ , in the best way.)

He opens his mouth almost _greedily_ and I moan at just the thought of Simon Snow being so eager for cock.

For _my_ cock.

 _Fuck me_ , he's closing his lips around _my_ cock.

I put my mouth on him again and swallow him down, and try not to think about how obscene it feels to hold my own cock in place while Simon's head bobs on it in an awkward rhythm.

But then he gets into a toe curlingly perfect rhythm for a moment, and I stop thinking.

**Simon**

I never really thought about whether this thing with Baz means I’m gay. But lying on his bed as I suck his cock and rock my hips into him, I think I probably am. At least partly. He runs his tongue around the head and then dips to swallow down the length of me, and my eyes almost roll back. I try the same thing on him, and his body picks up a rhythm of rocking against me. I try to match it with my mouth and he moans in approval.

Then he’s bobbing his head up and down my shaft in the same rhythm, and for a moment this whole complicated thing feels like pieces falling against each other, a sort of gravity pulling us together.

It’s difficult to keep that seamless rhythm going, and we stumble out of it more than we manage to hold it, but it’s still so _good._

**Baz**

Pleasure is building up in me and I feel like I’m going to explode. Simon’s mouth is hot and slick around me, and whenever we fall into that _just right_ rhythm, my vision bursts with stars and I feel the tension wrenching itself tighter in my gut.

I’m going to come in Simon’s mouth. I hazily think I should warn him, but then he’s doing something new and wonderful with his tongue and the shock of it tips me over the edge and I’m coming hard, arching into him, my hips stuttering. He flinches slightly, like I’ve surprised him (I’ve surprised myself) but then he picks that perfect rhythm up again and carries me through as I spurt into his mouth.

**Simon**

I’m not sure what else to do but swallow Baz’s come as he keeps rocking into my mouth. I think I would have had more of an opinion on this before, if I’d ever really thought about it, but now I can’t really be bothered. Baz is groaning around my cock and the sound vibrates through me, and I think I’m close to tipping after him.

Then his whole body tenses, and he stutters in his movement on my cock, knocking me slightly out of orbit of my orgasm. His body shudders and then all at once the tension oozes out of him.

He pulls his softening cock out of my mouth with another groan. Then he props himself on an elbow and pushes my hips flat against the bed and begins working on me again.

**Baz**

I want to make Simon Snow’s toes curl. He’s making these obscene noises now that his mouth isn’t full, and I know I’m doing something right when his keening gets louder, more desperate. He huffs out a sound of frustration, and I think he wishes he had his hands free to muffle the sound. I do everything I can to make him louder.

**Simon**

Somewhere in the back of my mind I worry about being too loud and someone hearing us (hearing _me_ ), but Baz's tongue is killing that thought. My hips surge up involuntarily and I thrust myself roughly into his mouth.

**Baz**

Simon braces his feet on the bed and ruts himself up into my face. His hips stutter, pull back down, and he's stammering out an apology. "Sorry, I didn't mean to--" But I _like_ it and can't imagine how he could think I wouldn't, so I cut him off with a moan and grab his hips and yank them up again. 

“Oh my _god_ , Baz. _Fuck_.” Beautiful obscenities burst out of him until he’s wordlessly groaning as he thrusts up into my mouth.

**Simon**

I feel like I might die. Like Baz might set me on fire from the inside.

**Baz**

Simon’s body goes taut and his back arches and then he’s crashing into release. He keeps rocking up into my mouth, and then he whimpers, “Stop stop stop.” I do, pulling away and wiping come from the corner of my mouth.

Simon is gorgeous, all flushed and slick with sweat and stretched out across my bed. The sight of him still bound up is nearly enough to make me want to go again.

**Simon**

I’m still trying to catch my breath when I feel Baz’s hands surround the arch of my foot where I still have it braced against the bed. He pulls it into his lap and starts working his thumbs along the bottom.

I gape at him. “Are you giving me a foot rub?”

“You don’t want me to?” He looks up from my foot, and then hesitates.

“No, no, I do. It’s— well it’s nice really.” I glance up at my bound hands. “A bit weird. But nice.”

He smiles shyly and avoids my eye. “Actually I’m planning to keep you tied up for all sorts of mundane things now.” A grin spreads across his face, and he places my foot on the bed and starts working on the other.

“Ah, of course. That must have been the plan all along.”

Baz chuckles, but then he nods curtly and I see a flash of something cross his face.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

**Baz**

He calls me _love_ and it ruins me. I can’t look at him.

I just want to wash everything off of me in the shower and try not to think about this.

“Baz, untie me. _Please_.” Ah. Simon must want to move on as well. I let go of his foot and crawl up the bed to untie him.

I start to move away as he rubs his wrists (they must be sore). I sit on the edge of the bed, but then he’s wrapping his arms around me and holding me from behind. My arms are awkwardly pinned to my sides, and he’s squeezing me. “Come here,” he whispers.

I let out a shaky breath. “I am here.”

He loosens one arm around me and runs his hand over my hair. “No, come _here_.”

“Snow, I don’t know what you mean—” But then he’s lying back down and tugging me after him.

**Simon**

I don’t know the words to say here. I _never_ know the words to say. Especially not to Baz. But I fold my arms around him and run my fingers through his hair, and hope he understands.

**Baz**

I don’t know if I can survive much more of loving Simon Snowing without him knowing. But he’s holding me, and I indulge myself. I twist in his arms, and press my face into his neck and breathe him in while he strokes my hair.

And I feel _loved_. Even if that’s not possible.

“Baz,” he whispers, and I’m worried for a moment he’ll ask me to explain myself. “Can we do this again? I mean— can this be something we do with each other?”

_Maybe this can be enough._

I nod. “Yes, Snow. I’d like that.”


End file.
